Hugh Laurie eats dead children

In my art-brute short-film
I slowly comb the fine hairs
Of the mutant-plastic alien-mannequins
We stole together
From the X-files soundstage
Hugh
You're more beautiful than antelopes
Or buzzed-naked puppies
Why did we dissect
All the family poodles
Meanwhile
You filmed your trip to Target
And put it on a commercial
During the local news-report
Which became pet-food murder-porn
Before the political-debate
With mental-telepathy
And starving shrimp-cocktail ice-sculptures